Venomous
by ChibiPip
Summary: Steve Rogers is beaten down and kidnapped by a trio of vampires. After weeks of travel in their captivity, he arrives to their home to find out that he has been taken to be their Lord's 'Bloodsource'- his only purpose now in life is to give blood to James Barnes.
1. Chapter 1

The Lord of the house sat upon his throne with about as much enthusiasm as a teen boy waiting for his mother to finish trying on clothes at a store would have. He was slumped to one side with his chin on his knuckles. He let out a yawn that was purposely loud to unnerve the humans nearby. It was important that they knew how displeased he was with the other immortals for being as late as they were. Not that the humans could help that, but it was always fun to make them squirm.

His cold blue eyes watched the door at the end of the long room, though they were growing dull and tired from all the waiting. He wasn't known for being patient in any capacity of the word, but in truth, the servants were beginning to grow uneasy as well. They were curious to see who his newest human would be and it had been many weeks since the three immortal vassals left to collect someone for their Master. He demanded someone more sturdy this time. The last one had only been useful for him for a couple years before she collapsed for the final time and he would not be having that again. The two humans both believed it would have to be a man, of course. But would the idiots who left be able to bring someone the Master would actually approve of? They could only hope. For everyone's sake.

This time, the Lord made a point to send Brock Rumlow with two lower vassals. Rumlow was the Lord's most capable underling by far. Had he been born with the blood of the night-children, instead of simply bitten, he would easily have been able to usurp the throne of the King. That's why the Lord adored him so for these missions. He could capture any human he damn well pleased with very little resistance. For one hundred years he had been collecting humans worthy of the Lord's fangs.

Said fangs clicked with a tad bit of excitement as the doors finally opened and he lifted his head a bit from its relaxed position to eye the men as they dragged the new captive into the room. But the small smile the Lord had gotten faded quickly when he caught the smell of the man's blood, "What is this? You bring me a boy?"

"My Lord, no!" the man on the right squeaked! They were sure they'd brought him a good one! He continued carefully, "He is young, but he is tall and strong. It took us a long while to get him in these chains."

"He is pathetic. Not even three decades." the Lord growled.

The one on the left cowered a little, but managed to speak, "My Lord, the second decade is a strong one for humans! Your two at your side are similar in age!"

"They are not for blood! They are my servants. He was to be my Bloodsource!"

The humans hung their heads to avoid looking at the man that was brought. He was indeed a tall, strong looking human. His dirty blonde hair and blue eyes made him a looker, too. But they only caught a glance. He, however, was eying everyone in the room.

The man yelling at his captors seemed to be in charge. He could only imagine he was the strongest of these supposed vampires. There was no need for him to try to blend in with the humans on the outside, so his clothing was far more elegant than the jeans and hoodies on the morons who found him. A long, beautifully crafted long Jacket. A finely spun vest. One singular glove for some reason… A goofy scarf around his neck. All in all, for a vampire, he seemed to fit the part. But as the man didn't look any older than the captive, the latter couldn't help but think he was, well… a jerk.

As for the other two humans, they looked near his age as well. A beautiful woman with long, dark hair that had some pretty waves in it. Her curves were perfect. Her lips were coated with a blood red colour that accented her entire visage in a way that reminded him of those old pin-up girls. If he weren't in the situation he was, he might have let his eyes linger on her longer.

The other was a man, almost as tall as him. He had dark skin. The blonde assumed the guy was black, but it was hard to tell since he was deeper in the shadows than the woman. He seemed very muscular and if the captive hadn't fought these vampires himself he would have been amazed that the guy wasn't able to get away from them by now.

"My Lord Barnes," the man in front finally spoke, in somewhat of an attempt to get the younger vampire to calm down, but definitely with an annoyed attitude, "I fought this man personally. He nearly won. If I hadn't had these two morons with me, it wouldn't have ended well. But we found him and brought him all the way from America-"

"Another American? Really? Why not something more delicious? Like a Russian?"

"With all due respect, my Lord, the last Russian we had… well… you crushed his skull in. And never really told us why. We assumed-"

The vampire-in-charge threw his hand into the air to silently stop Brock from speaking. This interruption lead Brock to roll his eyes, shove his thumbs into his waistband and look away from his Lord.

His attitude was ignored this time. The Lord 'Barnes' had more interesting things to worry about, like inspecting his new prize of a human. He sniffed the air a bit and gave a reluctant smirk as he stepped down from his throne. He couldn't even remotely deny that this one had good smelling blood. It didn't even have a trace of sickness in it like most humans did. He had stopped just beside Brock and was looking slightly up at this hulking man.

"He smells Irish, this one."

The captive clicked his tongue in annoyance. Not that it was any of this guy's business, but, "My folks were Irish. They moved to America. I was born and raised in Brooklyn. So you're smelling my blood, not my upbringing."

Instantly the Master Vampire was glaring at him. He obviously hadn't been taught not to speak unless he was spoken to. But he decided he could let it slide this one time… plenty of time for training him to quietly accept his position in his new life later. He huffed and asked, "What is your name, human?"

The taller human glared deeply at the slightly-shorter vampire in front of him. Blue eyes locking with blue eyes. Barnes had returned to smirking like a jerk and it was beyond irritating. He deserved a punch to the side of his head, but that god awful Brock had chained his arms together. He supposed he could just swing both of them and knock the man in his face to the ground, but then the other three vampires would give him another beating. He was hardly recovered from the last one. He didn't need that. He supposed maybe he could play along for now… escape later. And find a way to help the other humans while he was at it.

"Steve. My name is Steve."

"Just Steve, or is there more?" Barnes squinted a little, but didn't let the smirk fall from his face.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Such insolence, that one had. Did he not realize he was standing before a Master Vampire? Barnes was full blooded. Born from vampires. Far stronger than that damned Rumlow and most other vampires that roamed the Earth these days… nasty brutes turned, not born. Barnes could tear off this big idiot's head with hardly any effort… and this 'Steve' just did not seem to care whatsoever.

He would have to be taught his place.

CRACK!

The human slaves cringed and turned away as Barnes began lifting his arm. They knew what he was doing. They'd had it done to them before. The male of the two could still feel the lump from the last time he'd had it happen to him. The vampire had smacked Steve with the wrist of his left arm. The gloved arm. It was enough to knock the blonde out cold and leave him with a trail of blood dripping down the side of his head.

"Take him to be washed. Margaret and Samuel can accompany him," the Lord said as he turned to his pets, the humans who belonged to those names, "Then bring him to my chambers for my feeding. Understood?"

Neither looked at him. They just nodded obediently and stepped down from their spots next to his throne to follow the lower vampires who were dragging poor Steve away. The moment they were out of Barnes' sight, Sam rubbed the woman's back and reassured her that he only called her Margaret because he was upset with Steve. He couldn't have been mad at her. Just mad in general. She nodded a little and smiled. It was true. Their Master was frequently just mad at the world and took it out on anyone involved. In simple ways, typically. He did bring violence into his angry spells when he believed manipulation didn't work, but his favourite thing to do was subtly pick at a victim's pet-peeves until they got more and more frustrated and cracked. It brought him amusement to see the flickering of annoyance in their eyes. Mostly because he was a total brat.

Steve was dragged into a large bath room by the vampire underlings. The room was almost completely filled with a huge, square, pool-like tub. 'Margaret', who preferred Peggy, began filling it the moment she walked in. Meanwhile 'Samuel', who went by Sam, chained Steve in with a collar attached to a chain that came down from the ceiling to keep new arrivals from getting too far. The vampires left them to their business as soon as they were sure he wouldn't be running away. They could trust the two humans in the Lord's service by now.

With the bath drawn Peggy collected a few rags and her partner began lowering the blonde into the tub water up to his chest. They split up the rags and she did her best to tend to the bleeding wound on Steve's head… she frowned when she saw how much damage the Lord had done up close. His temper was getting worse by the day and she could tell he'd done way more harm than usual. It was just a matter of time before he really killed someone with that arm of his. Peggy decided she would have to try to speak to him somehow. To convince him that this violence was unnecessary and he could punish them quite effectively without hurting them. She hated the idea of those vampires punishing them at all… but the least amount of pain they could go through was preferable. She often found herself coming to the aid of the other human servants like that. Sam joked and called her the 'Den Mother' because of it.

While Peggy dealt with the wound, Sam started by getting him undressed. He ended up having to tear the old clothes off, but that was fine. He'd be getting new, better clothes shortly from the Master himself. Peggy had to keep her focus on the wound and not look down below, but Sam? Well. He took it upon himself to inspect the new meat. It wasn't all that bad. Nice, in fact. It was a shame it wasn't going to be put to use now that he was here. His only purpose was to give blood. Sam actually kind of felt bad about that. It was like seeing a freshly baked apple pie fall onto the ground before anyone could get a bite. He sighed and started washing the man properly.

This was about the time Steve started stirring again. He groaned and opened his eyes slightly, before waking up completely with a start. He immediately started fighting with the restraints he'd been in for weeks. He didn't know why he bothered, but he really couldn't give up even if he knew it was futile. He growled as he tried to move away from the two, "What are you doing? Are you vampires, too?! Let me go!"

"Please, Steve. We're humans like you. Trapped here. Like you…" Peggy said with the blood-stained rag up in the air. Steve noted her British accent immediately. It was pleasant… but it didn't make him trust her any more.

"My name's Sam. Wilson. This here's Peggy Carter. We've both been in service to our Master for about three years now," the dark man smirked bitterly. He hated that he'd been counting. You should never judge where a man's from by what they look like, but Steve could tell by the way he spoke... This one was American.

Steve was taken slightly aback. Had they been forcefully captured, too? Of course they were… the way they spoke about being trapped and in service… there was no way they hadn't tried to fight this, too. Maybe even tried to escape a few times. But here they were doing their job and cleaning him up. They didn't even take a break? Give a little bit of defiance? He took a moment and made a point to refuse, probably in denial, to ever break like that even in three years or twenty. Not for some jerk-of-a-Master like that Barnes guy, especially.

He was drawn back out of his thoughts as Peggy pressed the rag to his head again. He hissed in reaction to the pain… how did he get that wound? He couldn't even really remember. The last thing Steve knew he was staring that vampire Lord down… did he do it? He thought about asking but he found himself easing into the woman's gentle touch. Sam was still working on cleaning him, too, and even though he was still in arm restraints and he'd prefer to wash himself it was feeling good to finally get clean after the week he'd been on the boat with those vampire jerks. Steve decided to let himself relax for now and just get his bearings. He needed to gain all the information he could to make an educated escape plan.

So he started taking their appearances in again. Now that Sam wasn't hiding in the shadows it was obvious, as Steve had guessed, that he was black. His eyes were a lot deeper than Peggy's, but both had gorgeous shades of brown. And Steve couldn't help but admire that well-groomed goatee that Sam had. Somehow it was strange to think that their captors were letting him keep that. He'd imagine they'd either keep them clean shaven or all scraggly. Especially because, by comparison, Peggy's hair was pretty boring. It only had the curl it did naturally, so it was obvious the only upkeep she did to it was keeping it clean. And in three years, it had gone from her shoulders down to below her shoulder blades. Steve couldn't know that, of course, but he had the feeling that it wasn't where she'd want it. He wondered why it was that they were treated different in this aspect. Was it because she was a woman?

"Hey, Brooklyn boy!" Sam huffed as he gently knocked on Steve's forehead to snap him out of his thoughts, "I don't know if you know this, but when people introduce themselves it's only polite to do the same."

Steve's eyes widened at him as Peggy giggled a little to herself. All of this and they were almost acting like they weren't prisoners? Steve was just supposed to pretend this wasn't a horrible situation and that strangers weren't bathing him? He rolled his eyes a little… but Sam wasn't wrong, "Steve Rogers. My name is Steve Rogers. I got caught a couple weeks ago… ambushed me on the way home from work."

The other two could tell he was a little embarrassed by that. Probably felt a little emasculated, too, the other American assumed. He was, after all, a huge and powerful looking guy. The only way most men would be able to take a guy like him down would be to sneak up on him. Gang up on him. All around cheat him. He almost felt bad for Steve that that had happened to him, too. Though Sam didn't have the displeasure of getting beat on by Rumlow. He could only imagine the kind of pain that damned half-blood inflicted on Steve, and since Rumlow knew better than to break any bones, they would never know what had happened in that fight unless the blonde told them. And that was a conversation they would never bring up themselves. Most people didn't like talking about how they were caught, anyway. Not that it mattered. Most people didn't last long.

Peggy didn't believe he would be like the others, though. He had survived an attack from Rumlow! The second strongest vampire she'd ever laid eyes on. He was the only one known to have inflicted any kind of pain to Barnes, even if it was simply because Barnes was younger at the time. Or appeared younger. She'd gathered that their Master was much older than his underling, but as he was actually born a vampire and the other was not it was almost impossible to accurately gauge their ages in relation. But that wasn't the issue. The issue was Steve. Steve Rogers, this American from New York, had stood tall against not just Brock, but three vampires in total and didn't have a single broken bone, an out-of-place nose, any immediately noticeable bruises. It was astonishing. He was either the greatest human fighter in the world, or his healing abilities were unmatched. Maybe he was actually a mutant? But the vampires always avoided mutants before.

She gasped a little when Steve hissed again. She'd applied a little too much pressure as she was thinking and she'd hurt him without meaning to. The British Beauty pulled away from Steve, "I'm sorry! I swear I didn't mean it. I got distracted, is all."

"Geez, Peg! Don't you think he's had enough?"

"I was distracted!"

Sam grinned and couldn't help laughing. Peggy just huffed and exited the bath to get bandages for Steve. She walked with obvious frustration and a bit of embarrassment. Sam shook his head as he grinned. Steve was thinking that they acted like siblings… but it was bizarre. Again they were acting like there wasn't anything wrong with any of this. How could they be so calm?

The man in front of him seemed to pick up on this feeling of Steve's and his face dropped a little as he spoke quietly, making sure the woman couldn't hear, "I know it's messed up but. Look, you gotta understand, if we don't laugh, if we don't… keep ourselves together… we won't last. You won't either."

"So you pretend you're not slaves?" Steve questioned. He furrowed his brow as he waited for the answer.

Their eyes locked. Brown eyes to blue. Sam let out a breath, "We never, for a single minute, forget that we are slaves. But don't forget that that wound on your head was from the Master's fist. And he was going easy on his new boy."

The blonde took in a sharp breath. That's right. Barnes swung at him. He shook his head, "He's that powerful? I feel like I was hit by a truck!"

Peggy was back and she began bandaging the wound, "His left arm is made of metal, Steve."

Again, he was shocked. A vampire with a metal arm? This was all too crazy. Maybe those thugs back in Brooklyn hit him too hard and he was having some kind of crazy coma-induced nightmare! It had to be. Mutants? Fine. Aliens? Sure. But Vampires? That was a little hard to believe. Someone would have heard about a nest of them gathering humans by now! That was it. It had to be fake. It had to be his mind playing tricks on him.

"I don't believe you. I don't believe any of this."

They both frowned in unison. Oh, the poor thing. He was going to go through that phase. That wasn't any good for them. If they continued talking to him they'd probably get laughed at and teased. He'd say they were just imaginary and their pain wasn't real. Neither of them felt like dealing with that pain… so they just finished their work. It unnerved Steve that they weren't speaking to him any more, but he would just have to deal with it because he honestly didn't have anything to say to these dream characters.

The whole rest of the bath was done in silence, and still Steve couldn't think of anything to say to them. It suited them just fine. They were angry at him and he could feel it. It started making him feel like a total asshole for having the nerve to write off their whole existence. Okay. He could understand that.

After what seemed like an eternity to Steve, (and, sadly, only a brief moment to the other humans) the bath was finally done. No more getting washed by strangers as he was chained up like a dog. Sam held tight to these chains as Peggy started to undo the collar around his neck, and his eyebrows raised in confusion, "What are you doing? Don't you think I'd try to escape?"

"Well, you're naked in a house of vampires and in front of a pretty woman. Will you be trying to escape, Mr. Rogers?" Peggy questioned, trying to hide a smile that he wouldn't see anyway from their positions.

Steve actually flushed at the thought of that. As tempting as it was, he was a tiny bit embarrassed at the idea of showing anyone his naked body. Which was off, in his head, because he had just gotten bathed by these two.

With his silence, the two continued. When he was released, Sam tugged on his chains, "All right, big guy. Let's get you out of the water and to the Master's room before he comes looking for you."

But the blonde didn't move. Like a frustrated bull he stood his ground and glared at the other man. He had absolutely no interest in playing their little games and going to their Master. He was still his own man, dammit! They couldn't take that away from him no matter what. If anybody here wanted to take him, they'd have to do it by force. Sam sighed.

"We can at least get some clothes on you. Come on. One step at a time."

"I'm not going," he responded flatly.

Peggy moved into the water again and smiled up at him, giving the bruise on his chest a small pet before quickly lowering her hand again, "Please, Steve. He'll punish us all if we can't get you to him in a timely manner."

That… hurt him a little bit in a strange way. It wasn't any of his business what happened to the other two, but. He was Steve Rogers and it was his duty to fight for the little guy. And in this case? These humans were 'the little guy.' He couldn't be responsible for them being hurt. Especially if 'punishment' was as bad as Barnes had done to him. He relented with his eyes and started moving with Sam.

He was granted no clothes. That was something the Lord would do if he wished when he got his boy. So Steve was ushered, to his great anguish, down the halls in nothing but the chains around his arms and wrists. He held his head up with what little dignity he could, but he didn't know how much longer he could last when they finally arrived at the door. Peggy knocked and from inside they could hear the half-hearted, "Come in," from the man inside.

The door was opened and Steve's jaw set forward in annoyance with the sight he was greeted to. There was Barnes. Sitting against the pillows on his damned giant bed, complete with those drapes that Steve imagined belonged to a bed for a Medieval King.

The Lord grinned a big, mischievous grin when he was treated to the glory that was Steve Rogers. He snickered to himself and crooned tauntingly, "So. You've finally arrived."


	2. Chapter 2

Steve stood in the middle of the room before his new Master's bed, still completely in the buff save for the chains that bound his arms. His glare was deeper in intensity than staring at the sun could possibly be. Or, it would be that intense if his blue eyes weren't as tired as they were. Tired from struggling. Tired from the immense pain in the side of his head where that dick vampire struck him. Said dick vampire was just smirking and eying him like he was the toy and the Master was the child opening him up on Christmas morning. Steve's stomach clenched at that thought, but as much as he wanted to, he knew if he broke eye contact he was yielding to this child and there was no way he was even remotely about to give him that satisfaction.

He stood alone. Peggy and Sam had been ordered to leave. Steve was given a pat on each arm as they exited, giving him all the encouragement they could, and he knew then that this was no coma dream. They were real people being kind to him even after all his harsh words. The man before him was real too.

Finally, Barnes got up. His formal attire was gone and Steve was actually a little confused when he saw the man in boxers and a tank. It was just like what many normal human men would wear to bed. He also got a good look at the Lord's arm – the left one – in all its glory. It was, indeed, metal as Peggy said. It had lots of sections to it, which Steve assumed were to help with its movement. He'd never seen a prosthetic so finely crafted. He had to wonder who gave it to him and why he had it.

The brunette noticed the eyes lingering on his arm. As he moved closer to Steve he held it up a little bit, "Curious about this, are you?"

Steve's jaw was still forward, and he lifted his chin a little as the Lord came over to him. He was displaying all the dignity he could, given the current situation. As their two sets of blue eyes met again he shook his head, "I'm more curious as to why a bunch of vampires from a foreign land all talk like Americans."

That was a lie, and they both knew it. Sure, the human was curious about it, but it was hardly the highest thought on the tiers of his mind. Barnes grinned, "My father was English. It's one of my two natural tongues. I learned the accent from many of my human pets. Rumlow is also an American – though I assure you he didn't speak quite like he does now when I first got him a century ago. But, you see, we've found Americans tend to like their own more than outsiders. Easier to speak like them to save ourselves a little bit of trouble, hmm?"

The other squinted his eyes in annoyance. He really hated the way this vampire talked down to him; how he talked with an American accent but with the 'suave' attitude of some kind of uptown aristocrat. But Steve knew he was nothing more than a punk kid. Granted, a really old punk kid who looked near Steve's age, but a punk kid none-the-less.

Snapping Steve out of his own thoughts, Barnes started advancing on him. He put his hands on the taller man's shoulders and opened his mouth with a tiny hiss to bite down. Before he could get to the neck, though, his almost-victim brought his chained hands up just enough to shove the vampire out of reach, "I am not going to be one of your damn lackeys!"

Taken back by this, the Master stepped a few feet back and stared him down. Steve was granted a moment to discover that he was a few inches taller than the vampire, and a fair bit larger all around. The vampire was leaner – though that didn't mean he couldn't put up a damn good fight. Steve could tell that he was strong.

Barnes gave him an up-down with his eyes in return to Steve examining him, "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but if you had been paying any attention up until this point, you would know you are not going to be a vampire. You, Steve Rogers, are my Blood source. I will be sucking your blood as long as I desire to keep you."

"Like hell I'm letting you do that, either!" He shouted in anger before turning to the door. He didn't get very far, though, because Barnes swept his leg under the big guy's and sent him crashing to the floor. With not enough chain to hold his hands up and stop himself, he crashed hard. This upset Barnes.

He crouched down near Steve's head and grabbed his hair to pull him up and make eye contact, "I really wish you hadn't done that. You might get a concussion if you bash your head too much."

"Oh, God forbid I get a concussion. How unfair that would be to you!" The human hissed bitterly.

Barnes moved silently, it was hard to tell if he was amused or annoyed, and ended up flopping to sit on Steve's back. He laughed quietly at the grunting noise Steve made at the extra weight. It was hard to believe that someone as built as him would have trouble holding up someone so noticeably smaller – Oh, but there was a difference between lifting and having a weight dropped on you, wasn't there?

His new little pet was still protesting vigorously when the vampire refocused on him again, but he no longer cared. He had locked sights with something more important than the attitude. Barnes licked his top row of fangs and slowly moved down to half-lay overtop of Steve. The cold undead hands lightly slid up his back and rested on his big shoulders. The protesting ceased, but only because Steve was far beyond flustered and confused. What the hell was he up to?

And then, he bit in. It was a sharp pain, but it lasted only a moment. The Master's lips slowly sealed around the area and he was doing it. He was actually sucking Steve's blood. The blonde felt an odd mixture of a lot of emotions. To start, he was a little queasy. That was natural, right? He was losing blood, and ew – someone was actually drinking it. He felt infuriated. He was on the ground, naked, being used as nothing more than a damned cup to hold a drink for some bratty noble. He felt hopeless, as for all his strength he couldn't even fight for his own freedom anymore. And there was another feeling that Steve couldn't quite comprehend. There were no words to describe it, but a dull interest in what was going on was the best he could come up with. It was intriguing – the process of a vampire drawing blood. Even if he honestly believed that this was how he was going to die.

Wait! He couldn't let it end just lying there like a dog! He had to get up! He had to fight! He had to make sure that he gave his all to actually –  
>Barnes pulled off his neck and gave the little holes a delighted lick, before speaking breathily into his prize's ear, "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"<p>

Steve couldn't imagine that he'd be blushing in a moment like that. Back home, he'd been approached by many women... and men. But he was always more of a reserved person. A few dates here and there, but he never really got anywhere with anybody. And a situation like this? Blushing should have been the last thing he was doing. He chalked it up to some kind of mind tricks by that nasty vampire. With a growl, the man on the floor renewed his struggling.

The vampire just laughed and quickly got off of him. Steve was on his feet in a moment, but then was right back on his knees. Barnes cooed at him, "Careful, now. I didn't take enough to truly damage you, but it will be hard for you to keep up such activity."

Once again, Steve's jaw was forward. It was becoming apparent to the lord that this was how he expressed displeasure in another's words or actions. It was adorable. He stepped forward, "Not talking now? You were so chatty a moment ago. Did I take too much after all?"

With a huff, a roll of his eyes, and a tsk of the tongue, Steve looked away from him. He wasn't having this. The silent treatment was the best he could do until he could figure out how to get himself out of this situation. Peggy and Sam, too. And any other humans he could find. It was undignified. They were being treated as lesser creatures just because they happened to be fully alive. It was more than he could take. Slavery was unacceptable in America, and it was going to be unacceptable to Steve no matter who or where!

By now, Barnes felt a pang somewhere in his stomach. He didn't like being ignored by anyone. Had he not established his dominance? Did Steve not realize his place in life yet? Well, in all fairness, it hadn't even been a day, but most humans cracked much easier than this. Especially when their skulls were almost cracked! He knelt down next to his new boy, took his jaw in his metal hand, and forced their eyes to lock. Shock spread across the vampire's face the moment he did! Steve's blue... it was much better than his own. His own were cold, icy. Steve's were brilliant, like a sapphire glistening in the sunlight. He licked his lips at this discovery, "I see that you're still very upset with me. How about I make it up to you by getting you some nice, warm clothes, Steven?"

"Don't call me Steven," he barked, then continued with more composure, "That would be a start. But it doesn't mean I'm giving in to you."

"Of course not! But it is a start, my pet." He grinned as he got up and headed to a door on the side of his room. When he opened it, Steve was surprised to see another, smaller bedroom on the other side. It was just a bed, a nightstand, and a little chest, but Steve's heart eased a little when he assumed that, at the very least, he wouldn't be sharing a bed with this jerk.

The human moved to try to watch what the other man was doing, but he couldn't stay on his feet long. Barnes knew that, in time, Steve would get used to the dizziness, but the first few sessions were always harder on the weaker creatures. He returned with a few bandages and a set of nice pajamas. The left arm gripped Steve's shoulder to push him into a sitting position and the Master quickly bandaged the wound to keep it from bleeding too much further. It would stop shortly, as a vampire's incisions were precise and healed quickly, but it was a 'better safe than sorry' sort of thing for the young lord.

Steve looked at the bandages with confusion. He honestly hadn't expected any more wounds to be tended to unless Peggy or Sam were involved in the process. But here he was, this Master Vampire giving him some care. He wasn't sure if he liked the change in attitude. It was too suspicious.

Barnes sat down next to him, smiling, "Now, here's the deal, my Stevie–" Steve glared at him. Not Steven or Stevie. He was Steve. The vampire continued, unfazed– "I have these clothes. They'll be a tad small for you, but tomorrow we can have you measured and one of the girls will make you a new set. For now, we're going to have to dress you in these. But this requires your arms to be free. You see?"

"What? You're actually going to take these chains off of me?" Steve repied with sarcasm to Barnes' condescension.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't trust you; not even a little. I expect you're plotting your escape as we speak; but luckily, I do have guards that I can trust, and I also trust that you won't run with me watching. You don't seem that stupid." He smirked.

"Gee, how kind of you."

A small chuckle came from the vampire, "Oh I know, I'm just the King of Kindness. Now shut up."

Steve huffed; countered by a huff from the vampire. Which annoyed Steve more, and amused Barnes more. Which, in turn, annoyed Steve more. It seemed like this would be an endless cycle for the two – endless until the human escaped his Master, of course. Steve knew it was a matter of time. The Master knew, however, that it was simply a matter of time until he tried and failed like all the others, but they all learned eventually. Steve would, too. He just didn't know it yet.

"Back to what we were discussing. I'm going to take these chains off of you so you can get dressed. After that, we have the whole night to get to know each other. Humans have so little time, you know? So I like to get a lot of the meet-and-greet done quickly." The Night-Child stated as he stood again to stand over Steve. He grinned at the pretty little prize, then moved behind him and knelt.

"I suppose you've got a key? Where were you hiding it?" The blonde questioned as he turned his head back to him.

He didn't get a verbal answer but his eyes widened considerably when he heard the chains creak, then clang as they were pulled apart by the lord's strong arms. Steve tried to convince himself that this was only possible with the help of the metal arm, but he had a frightening suspicion that Barnes would have been able to accomplish that feat of strength with or without it. He hoped he'd never have to learn whether or not that suspicion was correct...

The chains rattled and jangled as they fell to the floor and Steve was able to freely move his arms. It was an amazing feeling after so long. The boat ride, the trains, everything since he had been captured... it had been too long. He almost thanked the vampire, but stopped himself quickly. There was no way those words would come out of his mouth for his captor!

He quickly let even the thought of thanking the jerk escape his mind as he rubbed his wrist. The weight lifted off of him, literally – not metaphorically – was giving him considerable relief. He wondered to himself if this was going to be permanent or just temporary to gain his trust. After a moment he turned back to the Master to ask him, but he stopped and frowned when he saw that the brunette's eyes were a lot lower on the blonde's body than the latter really cared for. He cleared his throat to attempt to get Barnes to refocus his attention.

"Ha! You know your whole body turns an interesting shade of red when you get embarrassed? How cute."

"Words cannot express how much I hate you, Barnes."

"Now that's not fair," Barnes frowned and walked over to his bed, flopping on it and staring Steve down, "You hardly know me."

Steve quickly snatched up the pajamas that had been left on the floor and pulled the pants on with frustrated haste. They were, as he was warned, 'a tad too small.' They were snug around the waist and a few inches too short at the ankle, but it didn't matter to him. He was hiding himself from the vampire's prying eyes.

Next, he pulled on the shirt. After attempting a few buttons, he ultimately gave up. It was far too small to fit around his muscular physique. Obviously the last owner had quite a bit less mass than he did. He hated to think that he was actually looking forward to getting measured properly. It meant admitting that he'd be there long enough to get his own set of clothes, but, really, there was no appeal to trying to escape in the nude. Especially not with the other humans in tow.

Once Steve had gotten his clothes on, and the blush faded away, he crossed his muscular arms – stretching the sleeves a bit and causing them to ride further up on his arms – and stood up a few feet from the base of the massive bed, "I know enough."

"Oh do you?" Barnes chuckled. He'd been watching Steve with lazy interest and mock amusement the entire time.

"I do. I know that you're the leader of an illegal kidnapping ring." Steve began and the vampire's eyebrows rose, "I know that you took my blood without my consent, which was, by all rights, an act of aggression and assault," At this, the man under verbal attack's mouth fell open with a smile of real humour, as Steve finished with, "And let's not forget the biggest offense; You're a complete snobbish, stuck-up, self-centered, spoiled-rotten jerk."

With that amazing end to the rant, Barnes laughed and clapped, throwing himself back against the pillows on the bed. That was fantastic! Nothing about it was technically wrong, and he actually could commend Steve for his incredible audacity, but, honestly? That was hilarious, and the vampire really had no idea why. Maybe because in his two-hundred odd years, no one had ever been quite so disgusted with him aloud. Rumlow had Steve beat by far in hidden disgust, though.

Everything about Steve's whole spiel was Barnes' favourite part. The way he spat out the words with real contempt, the way he stood with his arms folded and his chin up like he was a disappointed father talking down to his no-good son. Everything up to the last sentence with every insult starting with 's'. The brunette had no way of knowing whether or not it was the blonde's intention to finish off like that, but it was beyond perfection the way it was executed. When he finally stopped laughing he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, "Well said. Well said, my wonderful little pet. Oh, that was the best thing I've heard in decades! I don't think I've laughed this hard since I was but a small child."

"Shut up. Don't condescend–"

"No, no, I mean it! It was very brave of you, Steve. But you are wrong about me–" he paused to lick his lips, something he apparently did often, then continued, "Well, not completely. You speak the truth, but you do not know all the details. Please, sit. Let me tell you more about my little 'kidnapping ring.'"

The mortal man raised his own eyebrows. He didn't trust Barnes; not by a long shot, but he supposed there wasn't any real harm in hearing him out. Bearing in mind that he wouldn't buy a damn word that damn man said to him, he felt knowing all the information before trying to escape was preferable. So he moved to sit. Not on the bed – he wouldn't dignify Barnes' patting like a trained dog – but at a small table by the window that had a chair beside it. Barnes pouted. Steve felt good about that, even though it was merely another sign that the vampire was a spoiled child underneath the undead twenty-something exterior.

"Fine. Stay over there. I don't care," the brat barked, then relaxed on the bed and closed his eyes, "For your information, I require blood to stay alive. And many centuries ago my family discovered that granting each vampire just one person to feed off of saved us, and the damn humans, a lot of trouble."

"I hope you're not actually trying to justify kidnapping people to me," Steve said, purely serious. He had no interest in what Barnes had to say. Kidnapping was kidnapping. "And, I take offense to you calling us 'the damn humans' as if we're inferior to you. We're not."

"You. You're one of those 'save everyone' types, aren't you?"

There was no answer. So Barnes shrugged it off and continued, "You can hate it if you want, but if we have to hunt? We risk going without our food. If we go without our food, we have to draw more the next time we feed. The more we take, the more likely you weaklings are to die. And then we have to hunt again. Do you see? This method saves many lives, Steve."

A flicker of conflict sparked in Steve's sky-blue eyes. In one easy strike, the vampire had presented him with a very valid point that Steve had a damn hard time trying to come up with a counter for. If it were anyone else being used to save the lives of others, he would still protest, but this was different. The blonde knew the pain of a good punch or a well-placed knife in the hands of a bully. Since he was a child, he was always putting himself at risk to stand up for anyone he saw at the bottom of the food chain. He even got beat up for standing up to a bully with a magnifying glass trying to fry an anthill when he was six. In his eyes now, with Barnes' words ringing in his ears, the rest of the human race was the anthill and getting beat up to save them was worth it, but how could he possibly accept that? After everything up until this point?  
>Conflict: It tore at him. If he escaped now, he'd be forcing someone else to suffer in his place. Another human would be caught by these monsters and they'd be the ones getting assaulted and abused. He'd practically be sentencing them to a fate worse than death. Steve did not, on any level, wish that on anyone else. He just hadn't realized until now what his escape would lead to.<p>

But Sam and Peggy, and any others there might be here! He had to get them out, regardless of whether or not he went with them. This meant that an escape plan still needed to be made. Maybe, though, he could accomplish it and have Barnes be satisfied with him. That did pose a small problem, though. The other vampires would still need their own Blood sources, too. The cycle was endless. Steve could feel his heart pulling in two directions. He couldn't be complacent about this! But what could he do?

"Aww. Does that hurt you? You're trying to figure out how to save everyone. And you're realizing it can't be done," Barnes spoke quietly, with a hint of contempt and a dash of enjoyment, "This isn't the first time I've dealt with someone like you, Steve. Darling Margaret and Samuel felt the same when they came. And they've long abandoned any ideas of escape. You will, too, in time."

Steve shook his head, "I'll figure something out. I'll get us all out and I will stop you from getting anyone else."

"Sure, sure. But in the meantime, you should come and sit with me. Ask me questions. Learn about your Master," he grinned. He didn't have the slightest worry about Steve or anyone else escaping. No one had before. No one ever would.

The human wasn't going to give up regardless of how hopeless Barnes made it seem. He stayed seated precisely where he was, but he did relent slightly and asked, "What's your name, anyway?"

"James Buchanan Barnes. Lord of this Manor. Son of George Barnes and Lady Helena of the Vampires of the Black Sea's Shores."

The human nodded very slowly, trying not to smirk, "One of those names–"

"George Barnes was an Englishman turned by Lady Helena long before I was born. She was the true heir to the house. He was just a fool that got lucky."

"Ah, so you're a mama's boy, then?" Steve couldn't stop himself this time. He smiled.

"Yes, as a matter-of-fact I was!" James snapped a bit. It took Steve by surprise – he took note of the fact that teasing about this 'Lady Helena' was dangerous territory. He wouldn't be doing it again.

"So. James? What happened to your–"

"My mother was very adamant that humans should not be hunted. She was killed by George. He wished to take her place as the heir to the Manor, but he forgot that I was next in line. Before he could attempt to take my life, his treachery was discovered and he was killed for it," the tone in his voice got very dull, like it was something he'd recited a million times. Steve assumed that maybe he had. He was about to speak, but James continued, "And, my pet, you are to call me 'lord' or 'master.' You will not refer to me as James again."

Steve thought about retorting with 'You will refer to me as Steve,' but he decided against the beating he was sure would follow. He just shook his head, "I'm sorry to hear about your mother."

Barnes waved it off, "It was well over one hundred years ago. I've long gotten over it. I miss my mother, yes, but she is gone and there is no point dwelling. Instead, I honour her by not hunting humans. 'Kay? Now let's not talk about her anymore."

"All right. I'll respect that…" the blonde nodded, then went on to change the subject. "So where is this Manor?"

The vampire held up one finger, then quickly hopped out of bed and moved for a globe that rest atop his wardrobe. He took it over to Steve and set it down on the table, then immediately began to scan it. Once finding what he was looking for he pointed it out in a somewhat proud fashion, "Near here. In this country called Romania. It used to be Transylvania."

At this, Steve openly laughed. How incredibly perfect was that? He had to be joking. Actual vampires in Transylvania?

The Lord caught on, "I know what you're laughing at. Lord Dracula was from Transylvania, but you have to know that even within myth, there is truth."

"You've read Dracula?!" his sapphire eyes widened along with his smile.

"Stoker was a literary genius. Even as a young child I could see that. Though, the vampire described in that book was laughable. My personal favourite book is actually Shelley's Frankenstein."

"You're a vampire that's read Dracula. I'm sorry, that beats out your apparent fondness of The Modern Prometheus," Steve chuckled while attempting to match James' manner of speech, "How old were you when you read it, anyway?"

"Oh... I don't know. A hundred at least. Who really keeps count?"

Steve's laughter dropped with his smile, "You don't know how old you are?"

The vampire once again took his seat on the bed and started attempting the basic math required to figure this out. Eventually he shook his head, "I was born in the 1700's. But I'm not yet 250."

With some basic math of his own, Steve figured that he was born sometime after 1764, then. He nodded, "And yet you don't look any older than me. That's just unfair."

"How old are you, Steven?"

"Steve. Just Steve," he gave James a look, then answered the question, "I'm 26. A heck of a lot younger than you. But I'll look older than you in just a few years."

"The wonders of immortality, Steve."

Exhausting. This man was exhausting, "You like being immortal, do you? You seem very proud of your heritage–"

"And why wouldn't I be?"

"–Well because it might get a little lonely, and tiring. I'm not even thirty and I can't imagine being alive forever."

Barnes squinted. He saw what the boy was doing. It was the same mental warfare that James himself liked to use but in reverse. All because of a small comment on – okay, fuck, he was being a dick the entire time but he had every right to! He was high society. And what was Steve? Steve was just a human. Hardly something to pay any mind. Certainly not something to give any respect. Steve was there for James' pleasure.  
>Of course, if this back-and-forth was going to be the norm, James could get behind it. He quite enjoyed it, actually. The fact that Steve hadn't broken yet meant that he was still fighting, which meant he wouldn't be boring. For a while, anyway.<p>

"You should go to bed. You've had a long, hard journey. And a taxing day. You must sleep so you can regain the blood you've lost."

Steve shook his head and let it drop so he could look at the floor. He didn't know if his tactic had worked or not, but it didn't matter. The idea of sleep was too inviting for him to bother trying again, "Over... in that little room, right?"

"Oh you are a smart one," James responded quickly with a grin, "Yes. That's your little nook. I don't allow you mortals to sleep in my bed. Though the image of you curled up at my feet like a cat is almost–"

"Shut up." Steve huffed, then turned and went to his little room and shut the door behind him.

James just laughed. He'd let that one slide. Just this once. The vampire listened in from his spot for a little to make sure Steve was actually laying down. Not that it mattered what the human did, normally, but he really did want him to get the rest he needed. He preferred his humans healthy. When he was satisfied that Steve was at least in bed he got under the covers of his ridiculously large bed and fell asleep relatively quickly.

For the human, sleep was harder to come by. He laid down quickly, as his body demanded, but his mind was more awake than he'd have liked. There was so much new information to sort through. Mostly he was determined to figure out what to do about the fact that if he and the others escaped, someone else would be captured. He sighed and gulped. He made a resolution. If he couldn't somehow convince these vampires to find a replacement, he would have to take matters into his own hands. He'd have to find a way to kill every last one of them. Because no one should be forced into servitude. Especially not to jackasses like the vampires here...

It was a matter of humans, his kin, versus vampires. And Steve knew he'd have to take a side somewhere down the line. As soon as he came up with a plan. As soon as he could, he would speak to Sam and Peggy about it. For now, he let himself rest.


End file.
